


Helping Hand

by turnonmyheels



Series: Empty Spaces [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, Pregnant Sex, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnonmyheels/pseuds/turnonmyheels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tara visits Jax in prison set between seasons three and four.  Part of Empty Spaces 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Moosesal, thank you babe. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Jax holds Abel, cradles him with one arm next to his heart even though Abel is at least six months too old and too big for it. His other hand is on her belly, fingers spread wide trying to cover the bump she can’t hide – not that she’s trying. He’s talking to her. Voice low, barely above a whisper. His hair is shorter than she has ever seen it. Her fingers twitch and reach out for ragged spikes of blond. The hand on her belly shifts, thumb circles her belly button while Jax’s pinky finger stretches to rub her waist. It hurts so much to see him here in the visiting room battered with bruises of varying ages. He’s curled in a little, protecting his abdomen from the still-healing stab wound; she should insist on seeing the incision to reassure herself everything is okay, but all she can think about is how she wants to fuck him more than she wants to breathe. 

It’s the first time they’ve been able to see each other face to face since he was stabbed, and all she can think about is how she wants to rip open that god-awful jumpsuit and ride him until he can’t move any more.

And then ride him some more.

It’s the hormones, it has to be. He’s smiling at her, trying to reassure her with promises of protection from the Mexicans and how they won’t be inside much longer. The only thing she can focus on is the throbbing, wet hole inside her that needs to be filled. 

“Jax.” Tara focuses on his mouth. She loves his lips--plump and soft, almost hidden away under his beard. She has long since preferred men with facial hair because she loves how it tickles when they eat her out. “I’m wearing a skirt.” She hasn’t worn anything skirt-like since she her college graduation robes. Normally, she hates how vulnerable and exposed she feels in them, even when they trail all the way to her ankles like this one. Today though, she’s not wearing any panties and she doesn’t feel vulnerable or weak. She feels strong and powerful. Today it’s all about the anticipation. She’s already so wet her thighs are slick halfway to her knees. She angles her back to the room and spreads her legs open. And then all she can think about is how Jax is sliding his hand along her leg. How his calloused fingers feel as they tickle behind her knee. How hard he squeezes her thigh before he finally, god finally, reaches between her legs.

“Christ, Tara, you’re soaked.” He circles her clit with his finger a couple of times before roughly pushing two inside her. He crooks them and she comes just like that. She bites her lip to stop from making any noise. 

“It’s the damn hormones. I’m so horny, Jax. All. The. Time.” She grits out the words, doing her best to not draw attention from the guards (or inmates or god forbid the other visitors). “I’ve burned through a pack of batteries this week. I’m thinking about buying a vibe that plugs into the wall.” He’s three deep now, curling his fingers and then spreading them open over and over while his thumb works her clit. She sits up and tilts her head toward him. She gets close enough to feel his beard tickle her face. “And it’s still not enough Jax. I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate at work. I feel like my skin is burning up, like I’m going to lose my god damn mind.” She comes again and he keeps on fucking his fingers in and out of her, she can swear she can feel the tip of his pinky starting to work its way in with the rest of his fingers. “And you’re in here.” She starts to gasp and then he kisses her muffling her cries. 

Tara rolls her hips and spreads her legs further apart. Half of his hand is inside of her. Their son is saying Daddy over and over while patting them both on the shoulder. There are least a dozen other prisoners in the room, twice as many guards, with a fair amount of visitors. “You’re in here and I need you at home.” The squelching noises coming from her cunt as he fucks his fingers in and out of her are obscene; her breathing is getting hard and fast. 

Tara tears her eyes off Jax’s face and glances around -- the guards backs are turned to the room they have to be paid off. Half a dozen inmates are watching, only one of them – Clay – is Samcro. Tara scoots forward onto the edge of the seat. “Jax.” She can feel his fingers flex inside of her as he twists his hand. “I need more.” He slides in deeper and looks up at her, his face a question mark. She nods and shakes her head. How is this her life? She didn’t pull herself out of Charming and work her way through medical school by the skin of her teeth to be fisted by a convicted felon in the visiting room of a state penitentiary did she?

He shifts his hand. She can feel herself open for him wider and wider; her body doesn’t fight him at all. She can feel herself start to gush and squeeze and contract and release and... There. His whole hand is inside of her. “I love you, Tara.” He twists his hand back and forth and she comes and comes and comes. Tara presses her lips together and closes her eyes doing everything in her power not to make a bigger scene than she’s already made. She can feel the skirt dampen beneath her and thinks for a second that she should have brought something for the mess.

“I love you, Jax.” It feels like forever before she can answer. She says it when she’s no longer in danger of screaming, orgasm faded to tremors. She leans back against the chair and winces a little as he pulls out. He brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean one by one.

“Tara.” He licks the palm of his hand before wiping it off on his pants. “We’ve got a prison clause for a reason--“

“No, Jax. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I don’t want you to be with anybody but me, but you obviously need something.”

“Jax. No.”

“Look, it’s not like you’d have to go out and pick someone up. Opie or Chibs or--”

“Jax. The only Crow I eat is you.”

“I’m just saying, if you need something – and you obviously do. I understand.” 

The announcement is made that visiting hours are over. Jax hands off Abel and they hold each other until Clay and Gemma walk to their table. “Tara.” 

“Clay. Take care of him.”

“Always.” 

“Bye, Daddy!” Abel waves and Tara can hear Clay asking Jax if he saved any flavor for him. The door slams doors shut between them before Tara can hear Jax’s answer. 

“Classy, Tara.” 

Gemma’s smirk is almost enough to make all the orgasm endorphins fade. “Fuck off, Gemma.”


End file.
